


Healing the Hound

by MaxBetta



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M, Smut, sansan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-18 06:36:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15479769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaxBetta/pseuds/MaxBetta
Summary: Sansa sneaks into Sandor’s bedchamber and mounts him while he’s sleeping in an effort to “heal” him. He awakes unsure, but ultimately surrenders to the greatest pleasure he’s ever known.





	Healing the Hound

It had been more than a fortnight since Sandor Clegane’s seemingly lifeless body had arrived at the gates of Winterfell. Sansa’s heart had ached at the sight of him. He was as close to death as one could be without passing. Sansa had arranged for a maester to be with him all hours of the day and night, but even with such thorough care, there had been little to no improvement in his health.

 

One evening, Sansa was walking the perimeter of Winterfell when she heard a group of kitchen maids talking about how sometimes a woman’s body could heal a man’s, and that a woman's power was between her legs. They cackled when one of the ladies had mentioned Sandor’s size and made reference to a horse. After secretly listening for a bit, Sansa continued on her walk, deep in thought.

 

That night, she lay in bed, staring at the ceiling of her bedchamber. _What if what they said is true? What if a woman’s body can heal a man’s? Could I heal him?_

 

She wrestled with the possibility for hours before making up her mind. Swiftly and with as little noise as possible, she made her way though the halls until she had reached the door to Sandor’s bedchamber. After a quick look around to make sure nobody was watching, she entered, dismissing the maester and quickly latching the door behind her. It was then that she saw him, peaceful in sleep. The moonlight shone through a small open window, illuminating the room. She stepped forward toward his bed. Grasping one edge of the large brown fur that covered him, she slowly pulled it away and let it fall to the floor, revealing his naked form.

 

She had never seen a man naked before. She had heard stories, of course...talk from whores and maids...but seeing it for herself was completely different. He was glorious. His body was that of a true warrior, rippled with muscle from head to toe, and bronzed from the time he'd spent training in the sun. Her eyes fell to the area between his legs. Something within her, some sort of instinct, took over. Sansa removed the thick grey cloak she had draped over her body. She had worn nothing else underneath. She was fully nude as she dropped a knee onto Sandor’s bed, crawling her way up toward his middle. She hovered above him for a moment, reaching out with a single finger and tracing the length of his manhood with it. His cock twitched at the touch and slowly began to grow in both length and thickness, a wonder Sansa had heard of but had never seen. His shaft now hard as steel, she straddled him and sat with his cock flat beneath her, the head resting just below his navel, her core against the exposed underside. It was then that Sandor awoke, startled.

 

“Little bird?” He thought for a moment that he was still under the influence of his last dose of milk of the poppy.

 

“Shhhh. Hush now. I’ve come to help you.”

 

The realization hit him that it was not, in fact, a dream or a drug-induced hallucination. Sansa Stark was sitting on him, naked, the warmth of her seeping into his skin.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“I’ve heard that a woman can heal a man with her body.” Sansa tried placing her hands on his chest, but he was so large, she couldn’t reach far enough, so they ended up on his upper abdomen. “Winterfell needs you. I need you. Allow me to do this for you.”

 

“Sansa, you don’t unders…”

 

He stopped speaking mid-sentence when she slid the seam of her wet folds along his manhood from base to tip and then back again. He said no more, but a groan from low in his throat managed to escape him.

Sansa reached down between the two of them and guided his tip to her entrance, slowly sinking herself down onto him.

 

“Gods, woman,” he said with a hearty exhale.

 

Once the burning sensation of her inner walls stretching to accommodate him subsided, Sansa noticed that the feeling of him inside her was actually quite pleasant. She began by moving up and down along his shaft, gliding him in and out, as if she were riding a horse. She found it difficult to keep her balance that way, and there was a polite aching just above where their bodies joined that was begging to be satisfied. She readjusted herself, now leaning forward more, and began grinding back and forth instead of up and down. Sandor shut his eyes. _Perhaps it’s working._

 

She allowed her eyes to close as well, concentrating on the sweet tickle that was beginning to build within her. Just then, she felt a large hand cover one of her hips, and then a second hand on the other side. She opened her eyes to see that he was looking at her now, his eyes open and alert, the look of weariness in them replaced with an intensity she’d not seen before. Gripping her hips, he began pushing and pulling her, grinding her over himself. He abruptly sat up straight, face to her chest, and took one of her nipples into his mouth, sucking gently.

 

“Oh yes, Sandor,” she pleaded. “Please..take from me what you need.”

 

He guided Sansa's upper body backward with one hand, supporting her with the other. Her back was now fully arched, her body on display for him. He raised himself onto his haunches. He was fucking her in earnest now, his arms bracing her lithe body, her breasts bouncing with every thrust.

 

The small, pleasant feeling that Sansa had noticed within her was now growing much larger.

_Perhaps this was the woman’s healing power the kitchen maids spoke of?_

 

She could feel herself tightening around his cock, gripping him with her sex. Hit by an unexpected shudder that coursed through her, she lurched forward and wrapped her arms around his shoulders in a desperate attempt to ground herself. She cried out seconds later, her mouth pressed to the side of his neck. A moment later, Sandor broke his silence.

 

“...too good, it’s too good, Sansa…”

 

He hugged her closer. For a moment, he was squeezing her so tight that she was unable to breathe. A shiver ran through him, then he growled his release into her chest between her breasts. She could feel his thick cock pulsing within her as he rode out his peak.

 

After a moment, Sansa sat up straight, placed her hands behind his neck, and pulled him closer. They were face to face, nose to nose. He was slippery with sweat.

 

“Did I...did I heal you?”

 

Sandor picked her up, still keeping inside her, and laid back, with her on his chest. It was then that she felt the warmth of his seed trickle down the skin of her inner thigh.

 

She asked again. “Did I help you, Sandor?”

 

Still struggling for breath, he managed to rasp, “Yes, little bird. More than you could ever know.”


End file.
